


The Good Times

by orchidcactus



Category: Farscape
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-21
Updated: 2011-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidcactus/pseuds/orchidcactus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In 'Infinite Possibilities: Icarus Abides' Aeryn spoke of the 'good times'; this is my idea of what one of those times might have been like given what a good time in Farscape-land is like . Complete.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Good Times

**Author's Note:**

> In 'Infinite Possibilities: Icarus Abides' Aeryn spoke of the 'good times'; this is my idea of what one of those times might have been like given what a good time in Farscape-land is like . Complete.

A/N: Written in '02, I think? First long-ish fic I wrote... and one of my favorites, despite the technical errors.

Set after 'Meltdown' on Talyn; the crew is still out of food thanks to Rygel, and Talyn has not healed from the damage inflicted from the Siren Star and the Retrieval Squad. I'm assuming that they did indeed keep Xhalax's Prowler.

 **Prologue**

Dust storms raged across the single continent of Chimmera, under the unrelenting heat of twin suns. The gray swirling columns of dust twisted towards the heavens as if trying to escape the dead world, only to fall back to the barren plains and pummel the ground once more. Like wild beasts caged too long, the storms snarled and snapped at one another as they clawed their way to the ragged chain of mountains spanning the continent. Here they would hover for just a hungry microt, hanging longingly over the empty city, before attacking the mountains. Then, finding that railing against the impenetrable heights was as useless as trying to escape into space, the storms would leave city and mountains for the scummy gray waters that were Chimmera's ocean. Trapped, mindlessly uncaring, they would whirl over the waters until exhausted, and the indifferent waves would swallow them.

On first glance the City of Chimmera was nothing like the planet from which it took its name. Gold and silver buildings reflected the colors of flowering gardens, streets cobbled with white stone twisted throughout a complex of walls, and luminescent blue water showered from elaborate fountains. The city itself was surrounded by more walled streets, wrapping it in the safety of metras of twisting passageways. Nowhere was there gray, nowhere was there dust; the shields that cupped the city ensured that. At first glance, it was a city at the height of perfection, a city that spoke of wealth and harmony. In appearances, the City of Chimmera was nothing like the planet surrounding it, but whereas the planet was honest about its brutality and deadliness, the city was a beautiful lie.

 **Part One**

John yawned and leaned against the console. His current view of space from Command was less than inspiring, he had been on watch for almost ten arns, and be damned if Aeryn hadn't been wearing him out lately. That thought prompted a little smile; life, for the moment, was almost perfect.

Almost perfect except for some little details. The same kind of little details that had plagued him from the moment he appeared from that first wormhole. The details right now were food and Talyn. Or rather, the lack of the first and the severity of damage to the second. He yawned again; sleep, of course, was rapidly rising on the detail list.

"Captain's Log, Stardate " he started, inflection almost a perfect imitation, only to frown. How the frell would he know what day it was? And how long had they been separated from Moya? Hmm. Don't think about Moya, the other who was going to totally flip his lid when he found out about damn. That detail was best left alone for now. John shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track.

"Stardate unknown. Rations almost depleted. Ship in need of repairs. Continuing to scan for a suitable M class planet to "

"John? Who are you talking to?"

He winced and turned. Smiled sheepishly. "Hey. How long have you been there? Sleep okay?"

"Fine." Aeryn crossed Command to stand beside him, glancing at the console, not surprised that it still read negative. "So Captain. What is an 'emclass' planet?" She looked out from the corner of her eye, expression deadpan.

"Um. Someplace to find food. Kirk would have found one, solved all planetary injustice, and seduced the entire female population days ago."

"Kirk?" She moved a step closer without turning, letting her arm brush against his.

"Yes. Captain James T. Kirk," he smiled. Her touch was like electricity, making the fine hairs on his arm stand, and details like food and sleep seem unimportant.

She did turn her head then, just to look into his eyes. Her entire life she had spent with beings that deliberately concealed what they felt, tightly controlling their expressions and emotions. Here was a man that let every passing thought flit through his eyes. Eyes that even now crinkled at the corners with his clever smile, and dilated when she leaned just a little closer.

Then the doors to Command slid apart, and life aboard Talyn resumed its erratic rhythm.

"It's your fault we don't have food. Always eating. Your fault! Your fault!"

"No, it's your fault. You're the yarbo that almost sent us into that star. If this frelling ship wasn't damaged we could Starburst and find a planet with food!"

"Morning, kids. Your big brother up yet?" John tried to hold back yet another yawn, but failed. Aeryn, of course, hadn't missed the weariness in his eyes. She nodded in the direction of their quarters, hoping he'd go, knowing that if he didn't sleep soon he'd drop.

"Crais? Well, you don't see him in here, do you?" Rygel glared at John, as if the hunger he felt were the human's fault.

"Sparky, I'm hungry and tired too. Don't push me. You do remember what fried dentics taste like, right?"

"Only a species as deficient as yours would even consider a dentic in the first place."

"You eat dentics?" Stark looked at John with an expression close to true horror. "No one is stupid enough to eat dentics," he paused. "Well, except perhaps Rygel."

"Are you calling me stupid? Are you forgetting who I am?" Rygel, pompous even in the face of starvation, positioned his thronesled within spitting range, out of arm's reach.

"Good god." John looked at the arguing duo with exasperation. "I'm going to bed."

He rubbed tired eyes with one hand, squeezing them shut as the fatigue he had been struggling against suddenly pressed down on him. Smiling briefly at Aeryn he started for the entrance, but stopped short when the doors slid apart and Crais stepped through.

"Wait, Crichton. Talyn senses something, an object with considerable mass; twin stars, capable of supporting planets perhaps," he said as he walked to the main console.

John stood with shoulders slumped, just staring at the entrance, knowing that his face probably looked like he'd been kicked. Food or not, all he wanted right now was some sleep.

Behind him he could hear Crais' half of his conversation with Talyn. "If it is, then we are especially fortunate." John turned at this; when had they ever been fortunate?

"Talyn, I understand that. But those reports are considerably outdated. Our technology can surely overcome such dangers."

"What dangers?" Aeryn stepped towards Crais, at the same time looking past him to confirm that John had heard. John looked at her for a long, tired moment, his expression needing no words. Dangers. Well, there went the fortunate part.

"Again, if you're scans cannot confirm or refute the reports, we will simply avoid the city altogether," Crais concentrating on Talyn, ignored Aeryn's question.

"What city?" Rygel, distracted from his argument with Stark, focused his irritation on Crais.

"Do not argue. We are left with little alternative at this point."

John, nerves already frayed by Rygel and Stark's bickering, decided he'd had enough.

"Crais! These little one-sided speeches? Frelling annoying. Been driving me nuts since I got here, and I'm a fair judge of insanity. Tell us what the good ship Lollypop has found."

Crais regarded Crichton for a long moment, as if having another internal conversation with Talyn, and then looked at Aeryn as if she could decipher what the human was talking about.

"Talyn? Please display whatever it is that you are reading with your sensors," she finally said, her tone sharp, knowing that Crais had understood as fully as she had. The posturing between the two had grown old very quickly.

After a slight pause an image of a small gray planet rotating around twin suns appeared on the screen. They all watched for a microt, before Stark looked at Crais, disbelief in his eye.

"You've found Chimmera, haven't you? She said it existed, but I didn't believe. I should have believed. But we mustn't go near the city. Chimmera gives; Chimmera takes."

"Chimmera, Stark? What do you know about this planet? She who?" Aeryn asked.

"Ah. It does exist, then," Rygel hovered closer to the screen, eyes glittering as a different type of hunger replaced his desire for food. "All my people have heard the legend of Chimmera. That its only city is lavish, fit for a Dominar even. That it's filled with riches almost beyond a Hynerian's dreams."

"That an impassible maze filled with suffering and death surrounds it," Stark added. Rygel didn't even spare him a glance, but continued to stare at the screen, completely oblivious.

"A maze?" John knew he sounded cranky. He didn't care. The hope of sleeping anytime soon faded rapidly as he moved to stand behind Rygel. "Crais? I thought we'd talked about mazes."

"Talyn, magnify the sector containing the city."

The perfect city loomed on the screen, almost glowing as the last rays of light from the dual suns faded slowly. Lush gardens and shining white streets beckoned, and the intricate walls that forced the streets to twist and turn appeared non-threatening. The twin suns projected multiple rainbows through a single crystal building, painting the air with a riot of color. To the ragged group facing starvation with their ship deteriorating around them, it seemed idyllic. Except, John thought, for the small details.

"Okay, that place doesn't scream 'trap' to anyone else? Come on! Why are we here Crais? I think we should try our luck somewhere else."

"I agree with Crichton," Aeryn shrugged; as enticing as the city looked, there must be a reason the space surrounding the city was void of life.

"You would agree with him," Rygel said snidely to her. John grabbed the Hynerian's eyebrow, twisting sharply. It was too bad that he was just too tired to enjoy the resulting squawk. He let go and shoved Rygel away, then looked at Crais.

"Talyn says the city is dangerous. Stark says the city is dangerous. I say it looks like El Dorado meets Indian Jones. Again, why are we here?"

"Zhaan told me, in my dreams. When injured, wild Leviathans come here. They find the blue lakes. They heal." John mentally added Stark to the growing list of people he wanted to shove out an airlock.

Crais nodded before Crichton had a chance to question Stark. "Oddly enough, he is correct. The mountains are riddled with caverns that contain pools of chemically altered water. Thousands of cycles ago, this is one of the places Peacekeepers captured Leviathans."

"So, why are you just telling us this? Why didn't Zhaan tell us when Moya was injured?" Aeryn glanced at Stark.

"Wild Leviathans do not have Pilots. Do not let the water touch you Aeryn Sun," he answered.

"Of course," John voice had taken a sarcastic edge. "There's always something. I can see it all right now. This is a B-grade movie. We're all going down there, somehow we'll end up in that maze, and the water is gonna get Aeryn. Tell ya what. I'm going to bed; wake me up the dren hits the fan." John turned and walked out.

Aeryn watched him leave before turning back to the screen, smiling to herself. Was he fahrbot? Yes, completely. Occasionally infuriating? Definitely. Love him? Of course.

 **Part Two**

It was later. That was all he really knew. How much sleep he had gotten he wasn't sure of, but lately he hadn't really been able to sleep well anyway. Usually he would manage a few hours and then the pull that he immediately recognized as wormholes would wake him. Not this time though. He blinked a few times, mind gaining consciousness slower than the body; wondering what had disturbed him.

"I'm sorry. I thought I was quiet enough," Aeryn's voice was soft in the strange blue darkness of the room. He realized they were underwater, what light did filter in was shimmering blue. Staring he tried to find her in the almost complete darkness, but the water let in too little light.

He didn t hear her move through the room; sometimes he forgot her past, her training. When she spoke again, next to the bed, it surprised him. Her past made her deadly, and no matter what they shared, there were some things she couldn't change. He almost smiled; not that he would ever share this particular secret with anyone, but at times he found her predatory grace thrilling.

"Nothing's happened," her voice was still soft, but as he felt her sit down beside him, he heard the undercurrent silkiness. Again, he smiled. Yes, she was definitely going to wear his sorry self out.

"We're in one of Stark's lakes?" He slid his hand across the bed, finding her leg by touch.

"Yes, the water is starting to heal Talyn, but because of his Peacekeeper genetics, Crais thinks it may take as long as a weeken for the damaged areas to be fully repaired." She let her fingers entwine with his, as he trailed his fingertips in small lazy circles. She wondered if he could hear her heart rate as it started to pick up.

"A weeken? Not good." The small circles slowly grew, traveling along her thigh, tracing the line of her hip through the leather. He swallowed, his throat constricting as the desire he felt for her threatened to overwhelm.

His center, his brightest star.

"No. It's not good. We only have food for one more solar day, two if we confine Rygel." How was it that this man could touch her and everything else - the past, the future, hunger, training, everything - disappeared? Swallowed by those slow maddening circles. When his fingers abruptly changed directions and hooked the waistband of her pants, tugging gently, she sighed, unaware she had been holding her breath.

"Crichton! Aeryn!" Stark pounded the door control, flooding the room with light from the corridor. "Rygel's gone into the maze! I told him not to, but the moment I left him alone he disappeared!"

"Stark! Don't you know how to knock?" John tugged again at Aeryn's waistband, this time with a regretful smile, and sat up next to her on the bed. Stark had just moved up a slot on the out-the-airlock list.

"Stark, did he take some vital part from Talyn with him? Crystal synaptic processor maybe?"

"Synaptic processor? No, no. But the maze "

"Has he screamed for help yet?"

"Again no. But that city is danger "

"Go away Stark. Go far, far away," John interrupted again, making shooing motions. Stark started with his rant again, but John shook his head, waving his hand at the Banik. Muttering in distress, Stark backed out of the room, glaring at Crichton.

"You're really going to leave Rygel on his own?" Aeryn looked at him, eyebrows arched in disbelief. John was always the first to charge off in a rescue attempt.

"Nah," he said leaning over, pulling her hair away to gently kiss her neck. He reached behind him at the same time to pull Winona from the wall. "I just wanted to mess with Stark. He's been workin' my nerves lately. We need to find more food anyway. See, I told you. A really bad B movie."

John called to Crais over the comms as he and Aeryn walked towards the docking bay.

"Hey, Crais! Can Talyn get me some schematics, maps, magic decoder ring, something on that maze? I'm just assuming that Rygel took the transport, so I'll need the docking bay with the Prowler in it above the water line."

"Wait," Aeryn put a staying hand on his arm, frown creasing her features. " _I_? You're not going out there alone."

"Aeryn, you get any of that funky blue water on you, your Pilot DNA is toast."

"John, I'll be in a Prowler, in a flight suit. You are the one that's in danger."

"Me." It was a doubtful statement, not a question.

"Yes, from your own piloting skills. Did you not see those dust storms? You would be killed flying by yourself."

There would be no battle of wills; he had learned that fighting Aeryn was futile and she would never sit idly by while he risked himself. He wasn t sure what had even prompted him to try in the first place. Smiling, he motioned for her to continue towards the docking bay.

"Crais, do as John requested please, we'll both be going."

Stark turned to Crais on Command. "I told you they'd go after him. You owe me an entire flask of the finest intoxicant we can find at the next commerce planet. And none of that cheap raslak, either," he squinted his eye for a moment, before going to the console.

Talyn slowly began to rise up through the depths of the blue water. In the docking bay John and Aeryn pulled on their flight suits in a comfortable silence. He handed her a glove she dropped, then double-checked that her pulse pistol was charged. She noticed that his helmet wasn't secure, and adjusted the fastener, assuring herself that the others were tight enough. At the same time they reached for small incendiary charges, John motioning for Aeryn to toss them into a pack. When he suddenly looked into her eyes and smiled, she couldn't help but grin in response.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just well. This. You. Us."

"You make very little sense sometimes," she said, putting a gloved hand to the side of his faceplate. "But, I think I understand. Come on, let's go find His Eminence."

In Command, Crais was still glowering at Stark. Stark, gloating over the rare triumph, jabbed at the console. Triumph quickly turned to irritation, then anger.

"Work! Work! Crais, why won't your frelling ship let me see the maze?"

"Because, Talyn's sensors are frelling underwater and the storms create electromagnetic pulses that interfere with everything. So quit pressing his controls, you are disturbing the healing process." He glared at the Banik for a microt more, than turned his attention to the pair readying the Prowler for its flight.

"I am uploading the schematics Talyn has available onto the Prowler's data spools. The storms have made it impossible to discern where the transport landed, but as you can see for yourselves, only one entrance to the maze does not lead to instant death. We can only hope that Rygel was fortunate enough to chose that entrance." It was impossible to tell if he would consider Rygel being lucky as good fortune for the rest of them.

"Once you leave the cover of this cavern, we will lose contact with you, except for rare breaks in electromagnetic activity. There is a large storm building, you must depart immediately."

"Understood, Crais," Aeryn's voice floated from the comms. Then the Prowler rose from the exposed bay, and was quickly lost as the storm occluded its signal.

Stark watched the console for a microt or two, then turned to Crais. "I'll wager you that flask that they find him."

"I don't doubt they'll find him, but the wager should be if he's still alive when they do."

 **Part Three**

The Prowler lurched again, and John felt his stomach roll. He had been an astronaut for frell's sake, he thought as he talked himself out of being sick. The winds had picked up considerably since leaving the cavern, the storm had advanced much faster than Talyn had predicted. Even inside the Prowler, the roar of the wind was almost impossible to hear over. A twisting column of dust and air clutched at the fighter, twirling it round and round like a carnival ride.

"Ah, frell. Talyn makes for a crappy weatherman," he tried to force levity into his voice, but succeeded in only sounding pathetic. They should have waited the large storm out, he thought as the ship suddenly dropped what felt like hundreds of feet. Aeryn glanced back at him, apparently unfazed. He knew then that he never wanted to see what Peacekeeper flight school was like.

"Almost there. Look. I think that I see the entrance," Aeryn said, pulling at the controls as hard as she dared. She had thought briefly that the storm might win, but now they were making progress towards the city, even if it were at a painful crawl.

"And no transport. Frell," John peered over her shoulder. "I don't think we can make it back to Talyn before the storm hits in full. We might have had a chance waiting in the transport, but this Prowler's a goner." He watched as she struggled to set the ship down, thankful she had insisted on coming. He wasn't sure he could have made it through that last drop.

"I know; too light and not enough time to secure it with the cables. We could try waiting in the maze."

Almost to the ground, the winds suddenly reversed. A blast of dusty air hit the Prowler and it smashed into the ground with unexpected force, throwing its passengers against their restraints. Aeryn's head snapped forward, then back, and her teeth clicked together. Immediately she tasted blood, and wondered if she had bit through her lip. Behind her she heard John give a little grunt, then nothing.

"John?" she pulled at the straps, having to force herself to slow down so that her fingers would work.

"Yeah, babe. I'm okay. Just got the wind knocked out of me. You all right?" he blinked, assuring himself that he was. Nothing broken he decided, but his head was swimming.

"Yes. We need to hurry, the storm is getting close. Hand me one of those packs." He hoisted the pack forward, then released his own restraints. Aeryn turned to look at him, hand around the hatch mechanism.

"Ready?"

"No."

The canopy released, and the wind immediately grabbed at it with greedy fingers, making the whole craft shake. The noise of the wind was almost unbearable, the helmets of the suits seeming to block none of it. Aeryn threw her pack out, jumping quickly after it. The wind was growing more powerful by the microt; the force of it almost knocked her from her feet as she strapped the pack on. John landed next to her, his expression tight behind the faceplate. Dust pelted them, making it hard to see as they started for the maze. Two suited figures moved from the small fighter. Against the barren plain and the sprawling city they seemed tiny, insignificant. Much as the city seemed when compared to the storm that soon engulfed the Prowler, whipping it away effortlessly. The city, of course, was unconcerned with the storm. The shields that had protected it since time began would hold. Besides, the city knew it had guests again. Somewhere deep in the ground the ancient machinery that powered the traps came to life and chimes rang, signaling the conditioned beasts that feeding time was near. After all, guests should be properly entertained.

The howl of the storm was unbelievable. John wondered as he struggled through the knee-deep dust if he would be able to hear after this was over. He reached the shield first, but pulled up short, not wanting to step through. Why did he have the nagging thought that this wasn't such a good idea? He turned back to stop Aeryn, but what he saw over her shoulder terrified him. The storm had grabbed the Prowler and was lifting it skyward. He had a flash of Dorothy's house before he grabbed Aeryn and pulled her through the shield.

"Oh."

"Right."

They stared at one another and then the large courtyard with walled streets twisting away. After the rage of the storm, the silence inside of the maze was unsettling. They could hear the trickle of water in the raised garden at opposite end, and what sounded like an animal in distress, but beyond that there was no sound, no movement. The distressed animal suddenly ceased squealing, and all was silent. John pulled the scanner, nodding that the air was safe, and they removed their helmets.

After the warnings of the dangers of the maze, neither of them really wanted to move. The courtyard looked harmless enough, but neither of them could help but notice what looked like bits of a Sebacean skeleton heaped near the far wall.

John dropped his pack on the white stone street, and sat down heavily on top of it. Aeryn soon followed suit, placing her pack next to him. They both pulled off their flight gear, almost too warm inside the controlled atmosphere of the maze, as they watched the storm rage around the city. The shield that protected it sparked from time to time, but never gave any sign of failing.

"So, we just sit and wait, and when this storm's over, we comm Spanky, wherever the treacherous little dren has gone, and get the hell out of Dodge."

"Dodge? Is that where Kirk lives?" she smiled, and then winced, discomfort a reminder of her injured lip.

"You okay?" He scooted off his pack and knelt in front of her. Gently, he touched her lower lip, feeling the small cuts from her upper teeth. He wasn't surprised when she took his wrists, pulling his hands away.

"I'm fine. Don't worry." It was too easy to forget herself when it was John, let herself be coddled. Not a good habit to get into, she thought, although they were well beyond personal indulgences.

He only nodded, and leaned against his pack. Together they watched the eerie spectacle of the gray storm raging against the shield. Long green bolts of energy bled off of it occasionally, but the shield never weakened, and neither did the golden streetlights that magically appeared with dark of the storm. John looked around at the lights as another energy bolt zipped into the vortex.

"I wonder what powers this thing?" He moved slightly to rest his head on Aeryn's leg. When she placed her hand on his head he smiled to himself. Not too long ago she would have moved away from him.

"You're the tech, not me," her tone playful and teasing as she began gently running her fingertips through his hair. When she slid her fingers to his ear, gently tracing its outline, he felt that same thrill go through him. Whoa.

"Mm. And you're lucky I'm just so damn tired," he said, closing his eyes. Almost instantly he started drift off, listening to the sound of her laughter, feeling her gentle touch on his cheek, his eyelids, soothing him to sleep.

"John?" He was dreaming, and although the voice was pleasing, it was also invading. He was having a wonderful dream. Aeryn and Earth. What more could you ask of from a dream, than home and the woman you loved? He didn't want to wake up, but as soon as he realized it was a dream, he knew its glory was over.

He opened his eyes slowly; a little disappointed to find that at some point she had moved his head to her coat. He sat up carefully, his body aching from the pounding in the Prowler, but relieved to find that he wasn't so incredibly tired any more.

Outside of the city, the storm had run its course, and Chimmera was as calm as it ever would be. In the sky, the twin suns scorched the plain, but inside of the maze, the air was pleasantly cool.

"It's over. How long was I out?" he asked, feeling a little guilty for oversleeping. He stood up and stretched, handing her the black coat.

"Three arns. I wanted to contact Crais, but I can't get the frelling comms to work inside of this shield." She looked uneasy; something was bothering her that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Aeryn caught a flash of movement in the flowering garden at the other end of the courtyard.

"John," she pulled her pulse pistol, nodding at the brushy area. Tense, they both stood with weapons aimed, ready to annihilate whatever menace would threaten them this time.

"Damn, now that's a scary critter," John laughed as a orange animal, somewhat like a large rabbit, crept out of the plants to perch on the border of the raised garden. It sat up on long legs, sniffing the air cautiously before taking a green leaf in its paws to eat.

Aeryn relaxed and re-holstered her pistol. They watched the orange animal nibble on the plants for a microt, then picked up their packs, ready to leave the city and contact Crais.

"I bet that thing would be good eatin'," John said as they walked toward the entrance.

"Yes, but are you going to cross the courtyard to get it?" Aeryn shook her head looking back at the innocent looking space, and the remains of whoever had been foolish enough to test the courtyard. Odd, though, she still felt like something was wrong. Something that had nothing to do with the 'critter'. She tried to shrug off the feeling, looking at John to see if he felt it too, but he just smiled at her, happy to be leaving.

They both heard the squeal at the same time. Dropping their packs, spinning with weapons drawn, they watched as the rabbit-creature tore away from the garden, long legs propelling it in graceful leaps towards them as it squealed in terror. Close behind was a massive fanged beast that had zeroed in on its prey with single-minded determination. The smaller animal zigzagged across the stones, trying to escape, but the heavily muscled predator was gaining rapidly.

The pair of animals raced by John and Aeryn with incredible speed, the orange animal appearing as if it were attempting escape through the entrance of the maze. Another jump and the predator snapped at its heels, missing by the smallest of margins. The rabbit-like animal squealed again. Less then a breath from the shield, it suddenly turned, springing to one side. The larger beast, heavier and not as nimble, tried to stop, but its mass carried it on the same trajectory. As it passed through the shield, long green bolts of light arced away from its body as energy made it writhe. Within a microt the shield released, and the predator fell back inside the maze, dead.

"Whoa," John was the first to speak. They both looked at the still body of the fanged animal. "I guess getting out that way is a no-go."

"Yes. And I think staying here is as well. Look at that." Green fluid started to appear from the cracks surrounding the fallen animal. Where it touched flesh, smoke started to drift upward, and a pungent aroma soon filled the courtyard.

"Acid, and I don't think it's stopping with the critter, lets get while the gettin's good," he picked his pack back up, watching as the acid slowly started to fill cracks between the stones, making its way towards them.

Part **Four**

"The storm is over, why haven't they made contact?" Crais wondered out loud. He and Talyn had been monitoring their comm frequencies for almost an arn.

"Don't know. If they couldn't find the transport, they may have taken shelter in the maze. Maze, maze. Zhaan told me how dangerous it was. They should have waited! The storm was too big! Why did you let them leave?" Stark twisted his hands, pacing the confines of Command.

"Be quiet Stark! Talyn and I are rapidly wearying of the sound of your voice."

"Did you want Crichton dead that badly, that you sent both of them into the storm? Is that it? I don't trust you Crais!"

Crais turned to glare at Stark. "Can you swim, Stark? No? Well, if you utter so much as one more word, I will throw you into this lake to drown. Understood?"

Stark was silent, his eye staring balefully back at Crais. Crais nodded. "Good. I see you do understand. Now, if you would like to make yourself useful, please monitor that console for any sign of transmissions from Aeryn and Crichton."

Insanity thwarted for the microt, Crais was startled when Talyn sent him an odd message. "The transport? You're sure? Check again.

"And you're certain he's alone?

"Well, I will ask him that, I assure you."

Stark, trying to be silent, found he could stand it no longer. Waving his hands in frustration, he started shouting. "Crichton is right! Your speeches are more than frelling annoying! The transport has returned? Is Aeryn all right? Tell me what Talyn is saying!"

Crais looked at Stark as if debating whether or not to follow through on his threat. Before he had a chance to answer, the doors to Command slid apart, and Rygel buzzed in. He looked absolutely happy, relaxed even. Stark descended on him in typical frantic style.

"Where have you been? Where are Aeryn and Crichton? I told you not to go to that maze! Where are they? Tell me now!"

"How the yotz would I know? I've been for a swim." Rygel looked at Stark as if he smelled a foul odor.

"A swim?" Crais looked between the two, almost wishing he had left with Aeryn and Crichton.

"Yes, all Hynerians are aquatic, and the water in one of the other lakes is lovely. And besides, I've found the most delicious fruits. Plenty for all of us, although I do deserve a finders fee from each of you, of course. Only fair," he smiled widely, running a stubby hand across his eyebrow.

"You didn't go to the maze?" Stark looked panicked.

"No! Why the frell would I do that? That place is dangerous!"

Stark began his pacing again, looking more disturbed than ever. As he walked he began muttering a Delvian chant, trying to calm himself.

"What is the welnitz going on about now?" he looked at Crais.

"Aeryn and Crichton went looking for you. We assumed you had gone to scavenge in the city. Talyn and I believe they took shelter inside of the maze when the large storm hit," Crais said going back to his console.

Rygel's eyebrows fell. "Oh, yotz. They're as good as dead, aren't they?"

 **Part Five**

"Which way?" John asked, breathing softly in Aeryn's ear. They had been in the maze for three solar days, and had learned the benefit of speaking quietly, lest fanged creatures start appearing.

"Mm. I don't know. This frelling wall isn't on Crais' schematics!" she whispered back. John looked carefully at the tiles in front of him, then took half a step around her to look at the device. Thank whatever deity watching over souls in the Uncharted Territories that Aeryn Sun had had the foresight to grab the hand-held data spool when they had sprinted from the Prowler. They had decided together that the only option was to keep going forward, the map did show an exit. Maybe the designers of this hell had really left a way out.

He looked at the little screen with confusion. The map showed a clear path in front of them, when they could both see the massive stone wall not ten paces from them. They were in another courtyard, smaller than the one at the entrance, lined with the same lush gardens. Streets branched off in five different directions, all of which might be a safe route, or which might prove instantly fatal.

"I don't know, Aeryn. Let's take a break." He nodded at the garden nearest them. One constant of the maze was that the gardens were safe spots. At least so far that had been the constant. She nodded, as tired as he was, grateful for the rest. Together they began crossing the stones in the odd shuffling manner they had adopted.

Step. Pause. Look. Step. Pause. Feel each stone with a tentative foot before committing to putting full weight on it. The first day in the maze had taught them this lesson. John had stepped on a crumble-stone, starting a domino of stones around it to loosen and fall. Only Aeryn's quick grab had saved him.

Standing on the border of the garden, John carefully probed the soil with a long stick he now carried. Satisfied that this garden was as safe as the others had been, he turned to Aeryn and offered her a hand up. He was glad to see that she wasn't favoring her right ankle as much as she had been. Second rule of the maze: never lean against a wall, no matter how solid it looked, without probing carefully. She had amazing reflexes; the razor-whip had only grazed her right ankle. That had been on the first day as well; the maze expected its guests to be quick learners.

Tossing her pack down, Aeryn started to rifle through it as they resumed what had become a ritual in the last three days. Get out the scanner; scan the fruit in the garden. "Safe," she said to him. Dig out the desert shield, hand it to John who could set it up the fastest. Take his moisture condenser from him, snapping it into place with hers to start collecting water for her to drink. Be thankful again that they had packed for the desert; the water in here would destroy her DNA as quickly as that of the lakes. Watch as the shield sparkled to life, providing them a way to keep the smell of their food in, away from the large, dangerous animals.

John went through his part as well. Rapidly assembling the shield, handing over his condenser at the same time. He had refused to let her carry it, although she insisted that because she drank its water she should. He had almost laughed when she frowned at his Earth phrase about eggs in one basket. When the shield was up, he finally felt a little more secure, although it would do nothing to keep out the animals that continuously stalked them.

He dug in his pack again, pulling a container of water out, tossing Aeryn a sealed packet of food. Sitting beside his pack, he scowled at the courtyard.

"I hate mazes."

"So you've said. Several times. Does Earth have mazes like this?" She stopped rifling through her pack to look at him curiously, wondering if he had had an unpleasant experience in a maze.

"Uh no. Yes, we do have mazes, but they don't have flame bursts or hungry animals. They're just for fun, you can always leave at any time." He didn't add that disobeying the rules of an Earth maze didn't get you killed.

Rules. Yet another rule of this maze was when the chimes rang through the streets: hide. The carnivores that roamed the streets had been conditioned with time that the chimes meant food. Apparently the maze would dump the carcasses of dead animals to the sound of chimes every so often, and then when it needed to, it simply rang the chimes, and the animals came. That danger was actually the easiest to avoid. It was the only trap that gave warning.

They ate in silence. Roasted orange-rabbit-critter was good eatin'. And the safe-fruit was good, too. They had started naming things to pass the time. A lot of mistakes could be made in this deadly city simply from the boredom of having to move so slowly. John had invented the game mid-way through the first day. He was surprised that Aeryn had joined in whole heartedly instead of giving him that 'you are the oddest creature' look.

"Look at that," Aeryn said softly, nodding toward the courtyard.

"The orange-rabbit-critter? There everywhere,' he shrugged, biting into a safe-fruit.

"Yes, but that one wasn't there a microt ago."

"Huh?"

"It wasn't. Watch, I think I've figured it out." The little animal hopped slowly forward, sniffing the air, then leaped violently back in fright as Aeryn skittered a rock toward it. It jumped again, disappearing through the wall.

John snorted, swallowing the fruit. Rule number five was obviously that the city could project images. Who knew if even half of what they had been seeing was real. It was just amazing that they hadn't been killed stumbling into a real trap while avoiding a projected one.

"You know, I hope Rygel is suffering a horrible death," he said, picking up another fruit. He had come to like the yellow ones; they reminded him a lot like Mountain Dew. Maybe he'd be lucky enough to find a Dr. Pepper one.

"I'll bet he got fried in the shield, trying to leave." Aeryn carefully laid down, propping her injured leg on a large rock.

"Or eaten by a saber." He scooted over to her, taking the data-spool, comparing the wall with the diagram.

"No, even saber's know not to eat poison. Maybe he ate not-safe-fruit." She glanced at John poking at the monitor, then closed her eyes. "Why did they build this, do you think?"

"The maze? It surrounds the city, so my guess is protection. Or maybe they got sick of the Avon lady knocking on their door."

"But how did they leave? And what if they wanted to come back? It doesn't make much sense," she didn't even ask about the Avon lady.

"Just another guess here, but I'll bet the exit works in reverse of the entrance," he thought for a moment, warming to the subject. "And then, when they wanted to come back, there's a switch that either turns off the shield, or the maze, or both. I'd love to see what's under these streets, the technology that has kept all of this running for who knows how long."

"Find another crumble-stone," she said dryly. Her eyes flew open. They both heard the too-close roar of the Mirshtan, and it sounded pissed.

"Crap. That's our cue," he muttered. The temporary camp was broken down as swiftly as it had gone up, and they started toward the projected wall. She had been the one to dub the creatures as Mirshtans; they really did remind her of the Prowler-sized fire-breathers of Kabnir Five, except the beasts here were twice that size and looked very hungry.

They stood in front of the projected wall, understandably apprehensive. John ran the scanner, hoping it would show something, anything, that might prove useful. Shrugging, he looked at Aeryn, then took her free hand. Stepping through, they almost laughed with relief when nothing horrible happened. They were simply in another courtyard, with the usual five branching streets and little gardens.

Step. Pause. Test. Step. Pause. An awkward dance. A deadly dance. Their progress was excruciatingly slow. Which street? Check the spool. Somehow John had discovered that wearing the night-goggles gave them the ability to detect crumble-stones. Step. Pause. Put the goggles on. Take them off. Step. Hop across the rotten stones. Step. Pause.

The street they had been following came to a canal that ran winding through the city. The road turned to follow the canal, but they also had the option of a footbridge that crossed the blue water. The data spool showed either option as a viable solution. Aeryn shook her head almost immediately. The bridge looked entirely too safe.

The road following the canal, however, had a wall that oozed acid hemming it. This was obviously the better route. They were apt pupils; never take the less difficult of two options as the maze punished lazy guests.

The street that followed the canal was gradually narrowing. It took them a while to notice, as they were so focused on stepping carefully. As always they walked single file, two paces separating them, each stepping in the other's tracks. They had been alternating the more tiring lead position. At the moment, Aeryn was in front, John carefully walking behind her. When she suddenly stopped, he automatically pulled Winona, and looked over her shoulder. A hundred paces ahead the street had narrowed almost to shoulder width, and disappeared into the black entrance of a tunnel.

"Frell."

"We can't go back, unless you want to try that bridge," she looked at the spool. "This is the only other way to get through this thing."

"Glad I don't have claustrophobia."

As they reached the mouth of the tunnel, it was easy to see that getting through was not going to be easy. The maze somehow knew that they were at the entrance. Large silver blades swung randomly, slicing the tunnel into small sections and flames interminably spouted from hidden ports in the walls. And those were just the perils they could see.

"Indiana, eat your heart out," he muttered. That triggered another thought, and he pulled off his pack, digging through it until he found his leftover safe-fruit. Eyeing a path down the tunnel, he tossed the fruit away from him. The firm globe rolled off the first step, bounced once, hit the floor, rolled another foot or two and was then pulverized as a tremendous stone slab fell from the ceiling. Over it they could see the blades further down the tunnel continue to flash, and watched as hidden pulleys slowly retracted the weight, hiding it again in the ceiling. All that was left of the safe-fruit was a large yellow splotch.

"Do you want to take a break? I think that as long as we don't touch the wall-O-acid, we should be fairly safe here," John asked, still staring at the stain left by the fruit.

She didn't get a chance to answer. Chimes began to ring somewhere behind them, and they could both hear the rumbling that meant a Mirshtan or worse. They couldn't go back, they couldn't escape in the water; the tunnel was the only option. John felt like punching the wall, only that would mean having his hand dissolved by acid.

Aeryn made quick decision and reached into his still open pack, grabbing a handful of the yellow safe-fruit. She threw one into the tunnel, at the same time shoving John's pack to him. He could see what she had in mind, and wasn t too happy about it. But having no time to argue, took the pack as the slab crashed down again. Before it could retract, they raced into the tunnel, somehow managing to leap over a surprise gush of flame, and stopped short on the other side of the slab. John watched as one of the blades whisked by him, neatly clipping the end of his walking stick off.

They stood still, watching the blades, finding a rhythm to their rise and fall.

"Nice plan."

"Thank you. Ready?"

"No."

The step-pause-feel dance of before was forgotten. Sprint. Jump here. Oh, god, but that was close. Stoop. Sprint. Wait wait. Now, now, now!

John managed a quick look to check on Aeryn's progress. She was ten paces back, watching a slowly rising blade until she could dart under it, and sprint a step ahead, only to wrench her body aside as an unexpected spear of steel shot from the ceiling, almost impaling her. It hadn't been triggered when John had been in the same space. Yet another rule: the maze didn't play fair.

She stopped, breathing hard, and looked at him. Their eyes met for a moment between the flash of silver blades.

His willed his heart to continue beating. That had been very close. He had the sudden, intense urge to tell her that he loved her. Standing there with fear fading from her eyes, mentally readying herself for the next sprint-stoop-jump, she had never seemed more indestructible, and at the same time more fragile.

"Aeryn! Look out!" She saw his expression change to terror, saw him mouth the words, unable to hear them over the whoosh of the blades. She spun to see the danger, but was too late to draw her pulse pistol. A feline he had only arns ago named a saber leapt on her, claws digging deep. The maze was kind enough to turn off traps for the critters it kept.

The weight of the animal sent her staggering, and she fell back against a wall. Claws dug into her shoulders as the predator snarled, trying to bite into her head and neck. Too late she realized she had fallen against the acid wall, almost hadn't noticed the smell of leather being dissolved while she struggled. Pushing off with one foot she turned far enough to smash the beast against the wall. Immediately, it began to howl in pain, its fur not thick enough to protect. Although it had stopped biting at her to scream, it still worked at her with long claws, and its weight was starting to drag her down. Then she tripped, falling back with the saber on top of her.

Aeryn was never more thankful to hear pulse pistol fire then she was when John blasted the thing off of her. She lay on the ground, gasping for breath while he waited impatiently for the blades between them to complete their current rotation. Jumping at the right moment, John dropped beside her, and began tearing off her coat.

"Get this off now!" he shouted, careless of the saber inflicted wounds. He knew that if they didn't hurry, the acid would eat through to her skin. Together they managed to struggle the coat off, then the undershirt. He looked over her back carefully, and seeing no burns, only shallow slashes from the saber's claws, finally allowed himself to squeeze her in relief. In the space of twenty microts he had almost lost her twice. Only the sound of more beasts following them through the tunnel forced them apart.

"Here," John dug his extra shirt from his pack for her, closing the pack again without bothering to put it on, only carrying it in one hand. Together they resumed the task of weaving through the blades, the ritual of staying alive. The last set of blades had additional surprise for them. As they stooped and sprinted, the blade abruptly changed directions, slamming down between them. Once again, they waited to see if the other had survived. Once again they continued. The opening of the tunnel appeared, a view of the twin suns. Too emotionally and physically exhausted to take care, they staggered into the opening.

The exit of the tunnel appeared identical to the entrance. The canal chuckled softly to their right, the acid wall oozed to the left. The street continued winding into the distance. Perhaps if it had seemed even a little different, they would have paused. Perhaps if they had not become so jaded by fear and relief, they would have taken time to stop. Perhaps if Aeryn's head hadn't been spinning from slamming into the ground under the saber, she would have remembered to test the street before them.

As it was they staggered one more step, and the maze, unforgiving of even small mistakes, upended the block of stone they were standing on, throwing them into the deep canal.

Cold. That was Aeryn's first thought as the water closed over her head filling her mouth and nose. She had a panicked flash of the ice planet and death. Then she surfaced, gagging up water as she tried to stay afloat. Her second thought was the realization she wasn t dead. Apparently Stark was wrong, her Pilot DNA was not significant enough for the water to kill her; it would have been laughable under different circumstances. She paddled in a circle, looking for John as the water swept her downstream. She caught a brief glimpse of him before he sank.

Diving after him, she caught the collar of his shirt with rapidly numbing fingers. Dragging him to the surface she held him free of the water, while screaming in his ear.

"Wake up! Dammit, John. Wake up now!" Unaware that she had begun to use his words, knowing only that the canal was sweeping them ever faster towards an unknown destination, and that the icy water was rapidly weakening her grip, all she could do was scream. The water swept them around a corner, slamming them into the wall. She saw speckles of light as her head cracked against the wall, felt the unrelenting tug of the water, and then by some small miracle she saw the small cavern.

It was possibly the only flaw that existed in the maze. The force of the water had, over the countless cycles, eaten a small hole in the wall of the canal. So close to the water the maze had been unable to detect or repair it, by whatever means it did those things. The hole had gradually grown large enough to allow a person through into the cavern beyond.

Closing her eyes briefly to focus what she knew was the last of her energy; she let the water bounce them against an outcrop, then pushed off. The current added to their momentum, so much that it surprised her, and they shot toward the hole. Holding John's shirt with one hand, she grabbed the rim of the hole before they could be swept by. Crawling through first, she drug him after, her numbed brain not comprehending why she couldn't pull him in completely. It took several microts to realize that he had somehow managed to loop the strap from his pack around his wrist, and it was catching on the rim of the hole. Much later she would never really be able to recall how she managed to get him inside.

For a while she lay in the shallow water, even though it was bitterly cold. He was breathing, but barely so, and his lips had a disturbing blue shade to them. Did humans suffer from a form of cold-delirium, she wondered? Her body ached with the cold and exhaustion.

It was training, always that frelling Peacekeeper training, that pushed her to drag him completely from the water. Then there was no energy left; to pull his wet clothing off, to do more than cover them both with his heavy coat and pass out curled next to him.

 **Part Six**

"I know this is the exit! Know it!" Stark exclaimed as he compared the data to the opening in the maze.

"Well, then. Why don't you just go give it a try?" Rygel smiled at the Banik.

"Stop it, both of you. You know as well as I that Talyn's scans have revealed the shield works only one way. He would be instantly killed walking through."

"I hope that they didn't try to go out the way they came in," Stark almost whispered.

Crais ignored that statement, instead started back for the transport. "There's another storm on its way. Talyn will be healed sooner than I expected, then I will have him change the frequency of his shielding harmonics. Altering his shield harmonics to that of the city should allow us to at least communicate with them."

"And if it doesn't?" Rygel asked.

"His shields may explode. Or the city may. Or we could all be instantly incinerated. Or "

"Stop, that's enough," Rygel groaned. "Let's just get on with it."

 **Part Seven**

He had no idea where he was. A cave? Dirty light seeped in with water from a rough hole a few yards away, leaving the recesses in total darkness. He shivered, suddenly freezing cold in soaking wet clothes. His head throbbed as he shivered. Where was Aeryn? He almost panicked, until he realized she was lying next to him. Wet? And she was alive? Stark and his lousy information were so going out an airlock when they got back.

Aeryn looked cold, as cold as he felt. They were both wet, and he couldn't remember how that had happened. His pack lay to one side, and that was good, but the data-spool was nowhere to be seen, which was worse than bad. They would be traveling blind. The shivering increased.

"A-Aeryn?" he whispered. They had to get dry if they were going to ever get warm.

"Aeryn," he repeated, concern growing. Aeryn had the instincts of a cat; it never took more than once to wake her up. Only when he reached a hand to touch her did her eyes slowly open.

"Hello, Human. You don't get cold-delirium I guess." She tried to make it a joke, but the relief in her eyes was obvious. She had been so afraid she would lose him while she slept.

"Come on, Aeryn. We have have to get out of these clothes." He rummaged through the pack until he found the thermal blanket designed for the desert at night. Pulling it from its weather pouch, he was relieved to see that it was still dry. The shivering was nonstop now.

He began tugging off her clothes, then his own, wrapping both of them in the warm cloth. Together they huddled, pressed tight, and eventually the shivering did stop, and finally, sleep came.

The first thing she was aware of was she was finally warm again. The second was that John, pulled tightly to her, was not. He had stopped shivering, but he still felt cold to the touch.

"John?" she rolled over and propped herself on one elbow as she looked down at him. His eyes slowly opened, blinking slowly, and after a confused microt he smiled lazily at her. She couldn't help but wonder at his next words, spoken with what he had explained once was a 'Southern drawl'.

"I have died and gone to heaven. Are you an angel?" he murmured, sliding his hand under the blanket, letting it rest on the warm hollow above her hip. Her skin was silky beneath his fingers, and she was so deliciously warm.

"An angel?" she tried not to smile, but he had started in with those maddening little circles again. She wanted to protest, tell him they should leave, find a way from the maze, but found that those words were impossible to utter.

"Innocent little things that sit on clouds all day." He half sat up, leaning on his elbow so that he could look into her eyes.

This statement confused her, and she scowled in distraction. "Aren't those called Wirdols? They lived on Rete Prime, I think, before they were all killed and eaten."

He laughed and fell onto his back. His smile slowly faded as he stared into the darkness of the cavern. "What happened out there, after the tunnel?"

"One of the stones overturned and we were thrown into the water." She didn't tell him about her own terror, her thoughts of dying again. He had already suffered more for that sin than anyone could ever know; she would not inflict that pain on him again.

Silently, she reached out to touch his face, run a finger along his jaw, the stubble prickling her fingers.

In her life there had been handsome men. But none of them had his beauty, his graceful kindness. Or his innocence. When he turned his head to face her, she thought of the word he had used, almost asking if he were an 'angel'.

She moved a little, resting her head on his chest. He could tell she was deep in thought, and knowing her as he did, let her come to him. When the words came they came slowly, haltingly.

"Earlier, when we were in the water, when you wouldn't wake up, I was frightened." He said nothing, knowing not to interrupt.

"Frightened you would leave me. You have shown me something wonderful, beyond the dren the Peacekeepers teach. Sometimes, with you, I can see that 'more' that you speak of.

"And that is what I am the most frightened of. When I died, and you were alone," she felt his hand tighten in her hair, "you went on being more. If I were to lose you, I would only be that same Peacekeeper I was bred to be. You are the reason I can even see more."

"Aeryn," his voice was so soft she could just make out the words, his fingers trailing in her hair were softer still. "It has always been inside of you. I might have helped you find the key, but you unlocked the door. That place will always be there."

He felt her nod against him, but for some reason doubted she really agreed. Then she abruptly changed the subject, and he knew better than to call her on it. Aeryn did everything in her own time.

"So, who is Indiana?"

He laughed, and began explaining about the first of the series, only to be quickly interrupted.

"Was he just simple? Obviously, the statue would be a trap. Even Rygel could see that," she said, then sighed in frustration.

"What?"

"John, Rygel wouldn't come into the maze. He wouldn't risk his life someplace so dangerous." She pushed herself up to look at him. "We are the simple ones. I'll wager he took the pod, saw how bad the storm was, and then hid until it passed."

John snorted at the irony of the situation. "Worse than a B movie. Well, at least we've had a good time."

She smiled in return, reaching down to draw the red blanket over them. It was then that she had the briefest of flashes. A vision? She didn't believe in such things, but the image was so strong. She had seen herself pulling a blanket over them, and felt the pain of being alone. She wondered where the evil thoughts had come from as she touched him, assuring herself that he still breathed.

"You okay?"

"Fine. Just tired." He didn't believe her, but pulling the truth from her would be impossible. So he settled for drawing her near, and together they slept.

 **Part Eight**

"Aeryn? Crichton? Can you hear me? Please respond."

Static. Silence.

"I Repeat: Please respond!"

Again, silence.

"They can't be dead, can't be. I would have known I think. We have to give them more time."

"If they're not dead, they're wishing they were. Crais, you said there's another storm building. Why are we still here?"

Crais stared at the perfect city before him, hope slowly fading. He knew Rygel was right. But, to abandon them without the certainty that they were gone? Talyn sang in his mind and he nodded.

"We will retreat to the safety of a low orbit. After the storm has passed, we will search for them again."

"And if they don't answer?"

Static hung between them, a grim answer.

 **Part Nine**

"Comms?"

"Totally frelled." John plinked the soggy comms into the pool at the entrance; the circuits were fried. He didn't feel the need to add that without the data-spool, they were equally frelled. Aeryn looked up from working on their pulse pistols to watch the comms sink, her frustration matching his.

"My pulse pistol is frelled, too, but " she pointed Winona at the water, firing rapidly. Water and muck flew up in a cascade. "Yours is fine." She tossed him the pistol, watching as he fastened it in place.

"Thanks. Is that everything?" He lifted the pack, noticing dejectedly that it was considerably lighter. Only a yellow safe-fruit, a damaged water condenser, and two of the incendiary charges had survived the dunk in the icy canal. "Aeryn?" She was looking at the impact crater left from his pistol's blast. Without answering she walked to the water, and reached into the shallows. When she turned back to him, he recognized hope in her eyes. In her mud smeared hand were the night-goggles.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" he asked, smiling.

"Mm. Maybe once or twice." She slipped the goggles over her head, her own smile widening. "But you can again. They still work, and I think I see a way out of here."

 **Part Ten**

From the safety of orbit, Talyn's unlikely crewmembers watched the dust storm grow. Even with a buffer of distance between them and the power of the wind, watching the storm build was frightening.

It started simply enough, small dust twists colliding as the suns gradually let one section of the continent fall to evening. But instead of battling to the death, they joined in force, becoming a raging beast. As countless others had done for countless cycles, the beast charged the mountains and found the city waiting like a precious gem. The storm growled. Hunger. Greed. Its desires were strong; it would worry at the city for arns.

The City of Chimmera took little notice of even this storm. It had seen worse. It's only acknowledgement was greenish energy streams sent into the maw of the attacking fury. The city had other details to attend to. The systems that kept everything in check in the maze were confused, analyses had been run repeatedly, yielding the same results. Guests had disappeared. Not entrapped, or consumed, but disappeared. But the long-ago Builders had anticipated this, had hardwired a fail-safe. For countless cycles there had been no need to wake the Guardians, but even now they stirred in their crystal cages.

 **Part Eleven**

"And that's the end? The cup " Aeryn pulled herself onto the ledge, turning back in the total black to grasp John's forearm, helping him up.

"Grail," he corrected, hoisting himself up beside her. The dark pressed against him, weights upon his eyes, and he gripped her arm tighter as he steadied himself.

"Grail is lost forever? That's it?" He could hear the smile in her voice, even if he couldn't see it.

"Pretty much. I haven't seen it in a while, but that's the gist of it. What don't you like?" The warmth of her next to him was reassuring; the arns in the inky depths had been as tiring as the deadly streets above.

"This Indiana. The arc is taken from him, he gives the village the stone back, and then he loses the cu grail. And you paid currency to see him continuously fail?" Again with that teasing smile he could only hear.

"That's a joke, right? You're making a joke? 'Cause I know you wouldn't be puttin' down one of the best flicks ever." He squeezed her arm, letting her know he was ready to continue.

"Um, hold on." Had he heard something, or was it just his imagination working overtime? He almost asked for the goggles, but held back. The frelling things gave him a splitting headache after even a quarter arn. Sebacean technology apparently wasn't always completely compatible with human physiology.

"Did you hear that?"

"No," she answered, stopping again to look back at the massive cavern they were winding through. "What did it sound like?"

"I don't know. Rocks falling? Maybe I'm starting to get a little paranoid. Let's keep going. Do you want to hear more about Kirk or maybe " They both turned around at the sound of cascading rocks. John slapped at his thigh, reaching for the pistol he had let Aeryn carry, wanting to curse when he remembered it was gone.

"What do you see?" he whispered. The silence pressed against him as much as the darkness had. He opened his eyes wider, as if that would help.

"Nothing nothing." She was tense, ready to spring in defense.

Silence punctuated by water dripping in the distance, echoing from the ledges and ragged ceiling. Aeryn stared into the depths, searching for the source of the rockslide. Nothing.

"I don't see anything." She relaxed slightly, but still searched within the limits of the goggles, then put them in John's hand to look.

He put them on, grimacing at the almost immediate pull on the backs of his eyes. The cave was still, and he shrugged, returning the goggles to Aeryn.

She waited until he had a firm grip on her arm before starting again. The maze above was only slightly more complicated than the natural maze that they now tried to solve. Like the surrounding mountains, the ground under the city was a warren of caverns. Dark, dripping, treacherous caverns. The only thing that gave them any hope of finding a way out were the metal tracks that ran along the ceiling; tracks for the little maintenance drones that he guessed repaired everything from crumble-stones to leaking pipes.

They continued, Aeryn leading and John following, but this time there was no playful teasing, the noises had left them unsettled. Their progress was painstaking, made even more tedious by the tense silence. It was sheer relief when she noticed a glimmer of light coming from one wall of the cavern. She looked at the light for a microt, taking the goggles off to confirm what she saw. John stepped close, breath tickling the small hairs on her neck as he whispered excitedly.

"Aeryn! I can see something. Light, I think." He was staring; feeling like the faint glow was the most beautiful sight since his last Earth sunset.

"It's a tunnel," she said softly. As they neared he could see that the perfectly round hole was a tunnel leading away at a steep angle.

"Yeah, and it's wet and stinks worse than a Budong." Brackish water trickled from the end, running over the ledge to disappear in the dark and a dank smell wafted out. But a set of maintenance tracks ran along the ceiling and there was light, dim wonderful light, glowing from a source far up the tunnel, making the cramped tunnel seem almost welcoming. Another noise from behind them, more sliding rocks, and then the undeniable grumble of something alive.

The tunnel was small, only enough room to crawl and slippery from the dirty water, but there was no argument about staying in the cavern with whatever was growling at them. Besides as he followed close behind Aeryn he thought the light was growing stronger.

"Hey," he whispered. "Did you notice how smooth the floor in here is? I'll bet we're getting closer to the city."

She stopped, he thought at first to respond, but then he realized she was listening to something ahead in the tunnel.

"Get down!" Aeryn shouted at him, flattening against the floor. John barely had time to drop before a maintenance drone whizzed by, clipping his pack. They could hear it beeping to itself as the tunnel swallowed it again. Then the beeping reversed, coming at them again.

John ducked again, expecting another high-speed rush, but instead the drone stopped directly above them. A stalk appeared, and then a bright light that made them both flinch. The drone clucked twice, and shot away toward the cavern again. This time it was making a noise that reminded John of a car alarm.

"Oh, frell," John muttered, hurrying after Aeryn, who was moving fast. The alarming drone was abruptly silenced. A piercing scream echoed along the walls of the tunnel, and they both could hear the scrabble of claws as something tried to force its way into the confining space.

For the briefest of microts, there was quiet; maybe the screaming thing at the other end was too big to crawl after them. Of course then the something screamed again, this time much, much closer. It had figured a way into the tunnel after all.

"Hurry it up, Aeryn," John yelled, chasing her in the tight space. Another scream, their pursuer was closing fast. Claws clicking on the smooth stone floor. The scream became a roar as the scent of fear trailed behind.

John felt like he was trapped in the mire of a bad nightmare. His arms and legs refused to move any faster, and before he could even shout again to Aeryn the creature was upon him. He managed to lunge forward, knocking Aeryn against the wall even as an incredible force swatted him to one side. He rolled, kicking hard, screaming to Aeryn for the pulse pistol as he faced the terror behind. In the dim light all he could see were teeth and claws coming for him, red eyes glowing in the dim light. He tried to back away, but the smooth wet floor gave no purchase, and he only slipped. The creature sprang again, its roar making the tunnel vibrate.

Pulse pistol fire lit the tunnel up, dazzling his eyes as his irises constricted. Again and again Aeryn fired from behind him, firing blind after the initial burst. One of her shots exploded so close to his head that he heard his hair singe, and he jerked to the side, still struggling away from something he could no longer see. He heard Aeryn curse next to him; Winona had jammed.

"Frell! Crichton, can you see anything?" The cramped space was still but for their own breathing, rasping in the pungent odors of chakan oil and alien blood. She had taken off the night-goggles as the tunnel lightened, and the pulse fire had blinded her as well.

"No! Maybe you killed it. Hang on I think it's gone." His eyes slowly recovered, and he could see that the tunnel was empty, except for a layer of slime covering the floor and his legs. He tried to scrape some of it off, and succeeded in only coating his hand.

"What is that?" Aeryn looked over his shoulder at the mess left behind, blinking to clear the spots of light floating in her vision.

"Critter-goo. Breakfast of champions." Then as an afterthought, "Where is it written that all space aliens must drip goo?"

"No, that looks like blood. I think I hit it."

"Well, if that Jurassic Park reject is just wounded, I don't want to be here when it gets back." He wiped what he could of the slippery stuff on the wall of the tunnel, tightening the pack again. Aeryn slid the night-goggles around her neck, and handed him Winona with a smirk before she started down the tunnel again.

"I think that thing doesn't like me," she called back to him.

"Thing? You're calling Winona a thing?"

As always, it was the quiet banter that kept them sane, kept them distracted from the details of survival. The tunnel seemed never-ending. Twice maintenance drones buzzed them, but neither stopped, they seemed preoccupied with some other task. Once Aeryn thought she heard a noise behind them, and John almost shot himself, twisting around with pulse pistol in hand. They waited as the microts slipped by, until their fear faded enough to move on. A tedious arn passed, then another, and until finally there was a break in Aeryn's forward shuffle.

"John, look at this." She was scrutinizing something on the tunnel floor. He wriggled up beside her to look at whatever had her attention.

"It's a hatch. Can you read what it says?" The markings were obviously words of some sort. He had a fleeting thought of 'Made in Chimmera'.

"It's not Sebacean, or any of the other languages I can read. Open it?" They both looked down the tunnel, then looked at one another. Open the hatch and face an unknown danger, or continue with the monotony of the tunnel.

"Open it," they agreed in unison.

Aeryn pulled at the recessed handle, and the hatch rotated down, then away. Golden light, the same light that had been seeping into the tunnel, now poured in. They almost recoiled from it; they had been in the dark so long.

Aeryn, giving Winona a pointedly distrustful look, maneuvered around the opening and motioned for John to go first. He managed to look pained at the slight.

"Winona is very reliable. Usually." Grasping the rim of the hatch with one hand, pulse pistol in the other, he slowly lowered his upper body into the light. He pulled his head back in. "Looks safe enough."

The room they dropped into from the tunnel was enormous. Moya would have fit three times. Everywhere they looked there were pipelines running in all directions, forming a snarl of tunnels. Some of them ran to tanks in the middle of the room and many, like the tunnel they had been crawling in, ran away into the walls. Water pattered from small leaks, collecting in puddles, and the entire room smelled of alien mildew and things even less wholesome.

"Waste-treatment," John frowned, looking at the arrangement. "We've been crawling through the sewers. Very nice." He noticed Aeryn wasn t listening, that she had wandered a little way off and was standing in front of what looked like a cryo-pod. He walked close enough to see small green lights blinking near the open door. Active? After who knew how long?

"Whatcha got there?" He dropped the joking tone, knowing his voice sounded nervous. Frell, he felt nervous.

She stood up, rubbing fingers and thumb together before she wiped her hand on her pants.

"More of your critter-goo," she said. Suddenly every shadow seemed suspicious, and every drip-drop of water sounded too loud. Unconsciously, they stepped closer to one another.

"Let's see if we can't find a way out of here." He re-holstered his pulse pistol, picking up the tattered pack. Neither of them wanted to speculate if the creature Aeryn had shot in the tunnel was the one that had come out of the cry-pod, or if there was another one hunting them.

 **Part Twelve**

"How long are we going to wait, Crais?"

"As was agreed earlier; we will remain until this storm passes and we can perform another comms check for Aeryn and Crichton." Crais didn t even look at Rygel. He was concerned that if he did, he might suddenly have the compulsion to have Talyn obliterate the Hynerian.

"Well, that was when you said this storm would only last a few arns. It's been that already," Rygel said, but his voice was quiet, sad even.

"They are still alive," Stark stared at the screen, fidgeting with one of the controls.

No one answered him. How could they believe his constant claims when all logic indicated otherwise? Rygel finally muttered something about food and slipped away on his thronesled.

Crais watched him leave, then took one last look at the screen, before he too walked from Command. "Until the storm passes," he said again, but the conviction had gone from his voice as well.

Stark didn't even look away, and the only sound on Command was his whispered chant of 'alive, alive, alive'.

 **Part Thirteen**

"On three?"

Aeryn nodded and John counted off the numbers and they slammed shoulder first into the gray door again. Other than returning to the sewer lines, the massive stone block seemed like the only exit from the waste treatment plant.

The block grated forward an inch, then another. Time and dust had jammed the mechanisms until it took both of them throwing themselves repeatedly against it to gain even the smallest of margins. Finally the gap widened enough for John to force himself through, followed closely by Aeryn. Neither of them was really prepared for the sight that greeted them.

"Holy "

"Frell."

"It looks like this place's been nuked."

Before them lay the remains of a brutally ruined city. In stark contrast with the perfect glittering city above, this place below had been reduced to a collection of battered gray stones covered with a pall of choking dust. The few small dwellings that remained were scorched by long ago weapons' fire, and the streets that once marched in precise order had been twisted by mortar craters. The patchy harsh light that shone down from the floor of the city far above added a final touch of sharp shadows.

"They were looking for someone," Aeryn said, surveying the patterns of damage.

"What?" Where he saw only mindless destruction Aeryn could discern military tactics. They started picking their way through the heaps of rubble, alert for any sign of John's critters. Neither of them knew if the street they were following might lead to a way out of either city, but just moving forward felt like progress.

"The buildings. They have been systematically destroyed; either the aggressor wanted to kill everyone or they were searching for one individual. What I don't understand is why this city is here. It's damaged to the point of no repair and the city above us is in perfect condition? And why is it constructed of stone from the planet, while the other is made of rare metals? "

"Maybe that's the answer to the mystery of Chimmera," he said, scrambling to the top of a heap of stones blocking the path. He waited until Aeryn was standing beside him to point to one of the buildings left intact. "Nothing fancy here, everything's absolutely plain and the only lock on that house is on the outside. I'd say that the rich folks upstairs got a nasty surprise one day, and then decided to solve the problem with prejudice."

She looked at the structure, thinking, finally shaking her head. "They eliminated their entire slave population? That doesn't make much sense. Maintenance drones can't do everything." She watched as he jumped down, sending up a cloud of dust where he landed.

"Could be that's why they abandoned everything, just packed up and left the traps to guard the place."

He turned to look up at her. As she went to jump, a rock rolled under her foot and she slipped. Rocks and gravel slid in a miniature avalanche as she half-fell from the rubble pile. He caught her arms, helping her regain her balance as the last of the stones rattled away into the distance. The silence afterwards was deafening. No sound, no movement. John peered into the shadows. Had they gotten lucky? Had that loud dinner bell gone unnoticed? Then Aeryn stiffened under his hands.

"Don't move, John. Don't move." She tried to act like she hadn't seen the creature, but it made eye contact and she knew it would charge. John saw her eyes widen fractionally, and she shouted for him to fire. He spun with fluid grace acquired over two cycles of necessity, firing even as he recoiled in fear. It was a demon straight from the movies.

Yellow scales. Long teeth. Red eyes. It was covering the distance between them with appalling ease. John's first blast caught it by surprise, glancing off the tough scales of its side. It screamed in pain, shaking itself without even slowing. The second shot hit in the center of its chest and it stumbled, catching itself only a few yards in front of them. Intelligent eyes gleamed, staring into his, and he could see the angry confusion. Prey had never fought back like this. It screamed again, taking another step. He fired again and again, and finally the scaly thing went down, slumping on the gray stones.

"Is it me, or does this place just not like us?" John nudged the dead animal with a boot, keeping his pistol pointed at its head.

"No, it just doesn't like you. If I were here alone, none of this would be happening." Even though she was looking away, scanning the shadows, he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Wiseass," he muttered under his breath. He tried to look innocent when she jerked her head back toward him, expression set in patented Aeryn Sun bemusement. She had a smart reply ready for him when the screaming started.

The fact that the sound, far-off and tinny, was obviously a recording made it no less eerie. Terrified screams and explosions echoed from the shattered buildings and the awful noise seemed to take a life of its own as it filled the broken streets with the pain of a people long since dead.

"What the hell is that?"

"More importantly, who turned it on?" Aeryn asked, taking his pulse pistol from him, starting for the source of the sound. John watched her for a moment before trailing after, shaking his head.

"This isn't a really bad B movie, this a really bad B horror movie. And we're the idiots walking towards the screaming. What's next, walls with blood running down them?" he kept his muttering quiet as they picked through the rubble.

"Taka Seven," she whispered back.

"What?"

The street ended at a group of Prowler-sized stones with a dust-laden courtyard beyond. At one point the stones had been the foundation of the underground city's only official building, set in a plain town square. Aeryn used the largest of the stones as cover, leaning out just enough to see around it, seeking the source of the sound. When she leaned back she glanced at John.

"On Taka Seven there's a wall that's said to secrete a substance the color of Sebacean blood," she said, frowning as the screams suddenly cut off as abruptly as they had begun. She pointed for him to look around the rock.

"A wall that bleeds. Why is that not a surprise?" He leaned slowly out; then pulled himself back, scowling. "That's another cryo-pod. Complete with critter."

"Yes, but that's where the holo was playing from." She peered out again. "It doesn't look like it's reached the final revival stage yet. I think we still have time to override it."

"Can you shut it down without destroying the holo? Someone went through a lot of trouble to set it to play when the pod activated, and if we can get it working again, I'd like to see what's on it." He didn't add that it might provide a means out. She nodded, checking the pulse pistol.

"Ready?" she smiled at what had become a bad joke between them.

"Why don't I go first this time?"

"Because I have the pulse pistol."

"That's pretty lame, babe."

"Still, it remains the truth," her smile widened, undaunted by his human eccentricities. "Ready?" she repeated.

"No," he said, catching her hand. He gently pulled her closer, until he could let his lips brush against her smile. Of course at the same time he managed to take hold of the pulse pistol and tug it from her hand. With a victorious grin he stepped back and darted around the rock. After a microt's delay, Aeryn followed, sprinting across the dusty opening.

"You're a better tactician than I've given you credit for," she said dryly, before assessing the controls to the pod. It was a very simple design, and she began pressing the lights, turning them from green to amber. The creature within never stirred, even when Aeryn trigged the abort sequence allowing all life signs to self-terminate. Then John focused on the holo projector.

It was merged inelegantly with the circuitry of the pod, linked so that when the first of the automated revival sequences had started, the holo had begun to play. He pulled carefully at the tangle of wires, gently separating them to free the small device.

"Whoever put this in was in a big hurry. It's amazing that it's survived so long. Must be these wires. Never seen these before kinda like Talyn's bio something has its own power source, though " he trailed off talking mostly to himself as he worked on the small crystal.

Aeryn stood cover, glancing at him as he muttered, small frown creasing his features. Totally intent, he was unaware of anything else, completely trusting in her abilities to guard against the evils of this city. She couldn't help but wonder at the expression he wore. For a microt the shadows left by Scorpius seemed to lift, and she was staring at that same guileless being that had unwittingly saved her from a void existence. Then he turned the crystal over, and the projector spat out a grainy holo.

'Tae hly. Vrenn ssilen puit venn. Tlienisha ' a pale violet alien from the past whispered. He was dressed in a dusty uniform, but carried no weapon. Small and frail, he reminded Aeryn of almost every tech she had met. He was covered in small purple blotches, and even as he spoke, he began coughing raggedly until violet tears streaked his face. Although they couldn't see anything of the room he was in they could tell that he was bent over a console of sorts and was carefully keying in a sequence. With each change he whispered a strange word, looking deliberately at the recording device.

"Your microbes getting' any of that?" John asked Aeryn. She shook her head, watching as the console responded with a flash of color and light.

The figure in the holo responded by beginning a mimicking sequence, nodding to himself as the console accepted his commands. His relief was short-lived though as one of the red-eyed demons from the pods slammed into him, knocking them both from view. The sounds of struggle filled the present, as the pale being was ruthlessly attacked. Then rough voices shouted, and two uniformed, armed beings briefly crossed the range of the recorder. The guards shouted again, dragging their attack animal off, laughing as they shoved the first alien back into view. His face was bruised and torn, blood filling one eye so that he couldn't see. He stumbled, falling against the counter where the recorder was faithfully taking everything in. Whether his weakness was feigned or real, the alien slumped over the recorder, scooping it up and hiding it in his clothing. For a microt there was darkness as the device automatically paused, waiting for new images.

The next image was of the pale violet one, returning looking worse than he had before. Apparently he had escaped his captors, but whatever illness he had was advancing. The purple splotches had grown to become oozing sores, his breathing was repeatedly interrupted by a hacking cough and the violet tears were now dark purple. He spoke a few jumbled words, interrupted by an explosion in the background.

"Bemmis' Plague," Aeryn said, as the holo-image coughed, spitting purple-tinged phlegm. "I wonder if this is where it started."

"He has a plague?" John asked, looking a little uneasy. If a red-eyed monster could survive that long in a cryo-pod, then certainly a virus could. He really didn't want to catch the Uncharted Territories' version of Ebola.

"It's seen only on undeveloped planets now, but don't worry. Some of the Peacekeeper vaccines are spread through contact; you should be unaffected. Even if you are, there's a cure in Talyn's medical stores." Her only hope was that vaccines intended for Sebaceans would work on him, if it had even transmitted as intended. If it hadn't, he'd be coughing blood within a solar day. The alien on the holo spoke again, drawing them back to his image. He had half-turned, giving them a view of the same area they were in now, only then there were square buildings and neat streets instead of rubble. The grainy holo skipped as the alien began wiring it to the cryo-pod. Still in view he began speaking again, pleading words now, the wishes of a man who knew he had no future. Before he turned the holo off, he looked at the crystal insignia on his uniform. A grim laugh leaked through his bruised lips as he tugged the emblem free, letting it flutter to the ground. Making a gesture toward it that in his culture was no doubt obscene, he reached for the holo, and disappeared once more from existence.

"Aeryn, we've seen that building before," he was thinking of the one pictured on the insignia. "The crystal building in "

"The center of the city," she finished. "The one that we saw on-screen before we went into the caverns."

"I'll bet it's a control center of some sort, and our purple friend here was trying to escape."

"Or sabotage the shield," she shrugged.

"Or initiate an automated destruct sequence that we might accidentally trigger." He had to chuckle at her next question as she took the pack, tightening its straps to fit.

"Ready, then?"

 **Part Fourteen**

"That has to be it."

The crystal building was immense. Bigger than the pyramids he had visited as a kid, the structure disappeared into the artificial heavens of the underground city, its top third extending into the world above. The paranoia of the ruling class was evident in the armament of the building. Turrets made of white stone were spaced evenly along an outer retaining wall, each topped with what had to be a sort of cannon. There seemed to be only one opening in the wall, its connecting walkway leading to the pyramid. The path was covered, and even standing at a distance, the guillotine doors and firing ports lining it were obvious dangers. None of those threats were really intimidating, though; they had dealt with worse in the maze above. It was looking at the more than twenty active cryo-pods outside the entrance that made them stop and stare. Arranged in neat rows, the sleeping guardians waited for the command to defend the empty cities.

There was no real discussion, only a few whispered words before they continued. They trudged through the thick dust, looking suspiciously at the suspended creatures. Every step they took, the dust billowed up, coating their clothes and skin and hair. When John muffled a cough Aeryn looked at him sharply, fearing the worst.

"Just the dust," he whispered, shaking his head. But when had dust ever burned like that in his chest? He fought back the panic; if he did have the virus, all they had to do was get back to Talyn. He struggled against sudden tightness in his lungs, but it overwhelmed him and he began to cough again. Neither of them was terribly surprised when one of the cryo-pods began to cycle. A soft hiss of decompression, and one of the guardians fell into the dust, convulsing as life returned to limbs long frozen.

"Oh, frell," John cursed. Aeryn grabbed him by the arm and they both began a dash for the covered walkway, and the entrance of the building beyond. Behind them they could hear one after another of the pods opening to spill their contents into the dust.

There was no time to test the smooth stones of the walkway, only to hope that they would not crumble under their pounding feet. The guillotine doors loomed ominously, but they had been designed to halt outward escape and none of them fell. No weapons appeared from the ports, and they both wondered about the sudden stroke of fortune. Fortune except for the noise of the beasts behind them waking and screaming in rage as they scrambled after this new prey offered to them.

John could hear them coming, claws raining on the stones. He tried to run faster, keep up with Aeryn, but his lungs felt as if the were on fire and he stumbled. Aeryn heard the change in his stride and turned to help him.

Together they finished the last steps to the closed door of the crystal building.

John fell against the door, completely winded. When the door didn't immediately give, he felt defeated. When would they get a break in this frell-up of a city? He turned around with Winona in hand; ready to face the fast approaching horde, desperation in his eyes. There was no way one pulse pistol could defend them against that many of them. He leaned his back against the door and waited as the creatures scrambled ever closer. Aeryn shouted something at him, and abruptly he fell backward. She had found the release mechanism. Even as the predators gained the last few feet, she triggered the door again, and the door slammed shut, leaving only the frustrated screams of those left outside. John lay gasping on the floor where he had fallen, trying to regain his breath.

"Are you injured?" Aeryn dropped to the floor next to him, hand on his shoulder. It was then that she saw the ugly red spot on his forehead. It was more of a lesion than a bruise and she would have taken it for a fresh scrape except for the pink tear that she noticed trailing away from one eye.

"Fine, babe," he wheezed, tying to smile. Very carefully he sat up, breathing returning to a slower rhythm. "As much fun as this little trip has been, I think it's time to get back to Talyn. You don't mind cutting our vacation short, do you?"

She felt the uncomfortable sting of tears, he had maybe ten arns before the disease process was irreversible and he was still being trying to be glib. She helped him to his feet, and for the first time they looked around the room they had fallen into.

There were consoles literally everywhere, rows of them extending into the ceiling and away into the distance. This single building had been responsible for every computer function that ran the city of Chimmera. They had been built to withstand eternity, to keep the city safe and functional until the tenants returned.

A maintenance drone peeked out at them from under a console, humming softly to itself. After a microt it gave a little beep and shot toward the door. A mechanical arm darted out and began manipulating the release mechanism, trying to open the door.

"I don't think so, you dumb little frell." The drone exploded in a shower of sparks. John put Winona back in his holster, and looked at Aeryn. "Ready?"

 **Part Fifteen**

The last of the green bolts had disappeared into the storm. The computers of the city knew the winds were dying, just as it knew that the shields were undamaged. The builders had designed it to withstand time itself, and so a thing as mere as the wind was no concern.

However, these troublesome guests were becoming a concern. Only once before had the inner rooms been breached, and that at no fault of the complex of systems that monitored the city. Still, the smug security that the builders had instilled in a machine of their image kept the city from worry. The guardians knew the other routes in, and besides, that wasn't the last surprise that waited for the guests.

On Talyn the remaining crewmembers watched the storm gradually diminish, almost hoping that it wouldn't. For when it finally died, they would be forced to make the choice of abandoning their friends.

 **Part Sixteen**

"I frelling hate mazes," Aeryn muttered as they picked their way ever upward through the rows of consoles. John, walking behind her, knew better than to laugh and start another coughing spasm. He settled for a half-smile, concentrating mostly on the back of her boots.

He found that if he stared hard enough at her footgear he could endure the burning in his chest, and the slow uncontrolled leak of pink tears down his face. Aeryn had explained, somewhat reluctantly, that one of the symptoms of Bemmis' Plague was the gradual rupture of blood vessels, starting with those in the eyes, skin, and lungs. Her boots stopped without warning, and he almost collided with her.

"I think this is it," she said. John moved to look over her shoulder into a small room with an incredible view of the city Chimmera. In its center was a single console, controls matching those in the holo. They had found the command center of the entire city.

"Let's see if we can't shut this thing down," John said. He leaned against the console for a moment, clearing the ever-darkening pink tears from his eyes. He looked at the controls for a long moment.

There were six separate triangular panels, each a different color. Arranged in a circle, they reminded him of something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Aeryn handed him the pack, and he dug past the thermal blanket and incendiaries to find the holo. They both watched as the frightened face of the past began slowly pressing the controls. John nodded, but as he turned to begin his own sequence there was an unmistakable scream at the entrance of the room.

Without conscious though he dropped the crystal, diving for the pack, jerking out one of the incendiaries, tossing it at the advancing animal. Aeryn caught the move from the corner of her eye, and turning, fired at the still airborne device before shoving John behind the console. The resulting explosion shook the room, blowing crystal windows onto the gardens below. Immediately there was a rain of critter parts, showering them with fragments and globs of slime.

"Frell! Frell!" Aeryn swore as she peered over the console at the destroyed, understandably empty, room.

"Aw man. That's just nasty!" John wiped something dark brown from his face before he struggled up. Walking back around the console, the puddles of critter-goo squishing under his feet, he began swearing in earnest when one of the puddles crunched instead of squishing.

"That was the holo-projector, wasn't it?" Aeryn asked.

"Yep. Looks like I'll be doing this 'Simon Says' style." He had finally figured out what the colored triangle reminded him of. He had been pretty good at the electronic game when he was kid; he just hoped he could be better than good now. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the sequence, picturing the deliberate moves of the violet alien. Red. Silver. Blue. Yellow. Blue again. Gold. Green. Red. Purple. Red. Red. Silver. Green. Green then what? He suddenly felt hot, and the tears were much darker now. He blinked them away, trying to think. He glanced at Aeryn, but she shrugged, he remembered far more than she had from the simple recording. Another coughing jag hit him, and he almost crumpled to the floor. Aeryn grabbed him, supporting him the best she could until he could stand on his own again.

"Thanks. Um green I gue " The coughing interrupted him and he nodded for her to press the green panel.

Apparently green was a poor choice. As soon as she pressed the control the air filled with a grid of laser beams, locking them in their current positions. The console beeped, resetting itself. John reached through the grid, the proximity of the laser making his skin tingle. He began with the sequence again, not wanting to know what would happen if he hit the wrong panel again. His hand pressed the final green control, then hovered as the glanced at Aeryn.

"Ready," she said softly.

His hand hung over the console. A one in five chance now. Somewhat like a bizarre version of Russian roulette. Funny how the oddest thoughts came at a time like this, he thought.

He pressed the gold control.

Nothing.

Then the lasers disappeared, and a deep voice speaking in the little alien's language echoed across the city. It sounded like an announcement, and then the voice began with single clipped words.

"Rit. Din. Ceppla. Parus. Eoph," the voice stated.

"Uh, Aeryn. I um I think that's a countdown." John felt as if he was looking at her through a red curtain. He managed a confused look and one forward step before collapsing to the floor of the room.

 **Part Seventeen**

"It's time, Rygel," Crais said quietly. He and the Hynerian stood alone in Command. Stark had gotten hysterical an arn ago, screaming about purple blood, and had been confined forcibly to his quarters.

"Yes, I know." Rygel's eyebrows slouched. This entire mess was his fault, and he felt the weight of it in a way the others could never imagine. If he had just told someone he was leaving before going for his swim, they would never have left the ship. He sighed, pushing the control on his thronesled to leave the chamber.

"Talyn, begin preparations to continue to the rendezvous point." Crais tilted his head, listening to his ship as he watched Rygel move toward the door. He frowned darkly.

"Talyn! This is not negotiable. They are gone. Whatever you are reading cannot be anything but an energy surge produced by the shields."

"What is this yotz of a ship going on about now?" Rygel turned back to Crais.

"He thinks the shields around the city are fluctuating. Which they are, the storm has drained energy no doubt and the city must restore itself!" he almost shouted, directing the last part toward Talyn, frustrated that the juvenile ship was once again resisting him.

"Oh yotz," Rygel's mouth dropped open as he looked at the city still displayed on the screen behind Crais.

Crais, receiving the information simultaneously, began shouting even as he turned to look at the screen. "The shields have completely shut down? Life signs? You're sure?" His face broke into a grin as he looked at Rygel.

"Talyn says there are two life signs present in the center of the city," he said, pausing as smile faded. "And there's another storm coming. If we're going to get them out, we have to hurry."

 **Part Eighteen**

He could barely breath and yet he was standing. How did that work, he wondered? His eyelids were gummy, hard to open. He forced them apart, very surprised to be looking into Crais' eyes.

"Well, hi, Cap'n. Come to play at Wonderland, too?" His arm was over the Sebacean's shoulder. Ah, this is how he could stay upright, he thought.

"Don't speak, John, you'll start coughing again. Look, here's transport. Just don't speak." Aeryn's voice from the other side of him. She was taking the other half of his weight, helping to drag him along. He turned his head slowly to look at her as they helped him up into the transport.

He must have blacked out for a bit, because when he forced his eyes open again, they were in Talyn's docking bay. He was lying on the floor, head cradled in Aeryn's lap. She gently ran her fingertips along his cheek, smiling with relief. Crais was a little way off, collecting empty vials of Bemmis serum. He looked over at John, nodding in his usual abrupt manner.

"You are very lucky. Another arn, the damage would have been too great. You should return to normal within a very short time. Until then I recommend you rest," he didn't quite smile, but nodded again, leaving them alone.

"I am very lucky. I love you," John smiled tiredly at Aeryn.

"I love you, too." She smiled back as he yawned, watching as his eyes drifted slowly closed, only to snap them back open. Shouting in the corridor made both of them look towards the entrance.

"I will see them! You both had no faith! I am the only one that truly believed," Stark shouted as he raced into the bay and ran up to them, followed by an irritated Rygel. "You are alive. I knew it!" he said triumphantly, glaring at the Hynerian, who had tried to stop him.

"Hey, Stark," John sighed. Why was Stark always interrupting him at the worst times?

"Oh, Crichton. You look terrible! It's all Rygel's fault, always eating! Yes, yes. Rygel!"

"Stark. It is no one's fault. I'm glad to see you, too. Now, please go away." Rygel threw stubby hands in the air, buzzing out. The welnitz was going to finish what the maze started. Stark instead advanced, still jabbering.

"But you look so bad! Was it terrible?"

John sighed again. "Well we're covered in dust, smellin' like parts of a critter that are meant to be on the inside of the critter, Aeryn has a whip-wire wound, I've been crying blood, and we've been dodging Sigourney Weaver's favorite friend for the last three days " He coughed, drawing a concerned look from Aeryn. She picked up Winona from where the pistol had been lying next to him.

"Stark," she pointed the pistol at him. "Leave now, or I will shoot you and dump you out an airlock." To drive her threat home she fired a shot over his head, watching as he scrambled out the door.

John closed his eyes again, the cool touch of Aeryn's hand upon his forehead. "But you're still, here. I'm still here," he whispered, eyes still closed. Before he drifted off he heard her soft whisper, and smiled.

"Mm. I guess this is one of the good times."

 **End**


End file.
